


The Salty Seas

by canthelpmyselves



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Aromantic Len, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Satyromaniac Barry, brothel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-12 23:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canthelpmyselves/pseuds/canthelpmyselves
Summary: It was a long standing tradition that whenever he was in Central, Len would visit the brothel for a few hours of pleasure. He never expected to find something a bit more interesting than just a quick shag.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Comments: 14
Kudos: 135





	The Salty Seas

**Author's Note:**

> Satryomaniac is defined as a man with an obsessive, overwhelming or insatiable desire for sex. It's sometimes referred to as hypersexuality. It can present in cases where there has been damage to the temporal lobe or from chemical imbalances. It can also be caused by some types of dementia.
> 
> I am nowhere near an expert, only knowing what I have read online and in two medical textbooks, so take what I wrote in this story with a grain of salt.

The Salty Seas. It was a strange name for a brothel in Missouri, but legend had it the original owner had been a pirate back in the mid 1800’s and used his loot to retire as far from the sea and his enemies as he could get, while still honoring his past by naming his new business after his ship. It’s changed hands quite a few times since, but the name stayed the same. It has a reputation for being discreet, clean and, best of all, untouchable. There hadn’t been a police raid on the place in over fifty years. It started as a large colonial-style house had housed six to eight girls, depending on the market. In the fifties it expanded a bit, adding another four girls. In the eighties the owners built another wing and it added another dozen. You could rent by the hour or by the night, and there were always at least two bouncers to deal with anyone who got out of hand.

Leonard Snart made his first visit at the ripe old age of fifteen. Lewis had pulled a surprisingly successful heist and decided to ‘treat’ his son. The whore had been nothing special, some nameless blonde who popped his cherry after giving him his first shot of whiskey to help him relax. Lewis, pleased with himself for making his son ‘a real man’, made it a warped little tradition after that. A good heist always ended with a trip the The Salty Seas. A bad heist… well, that had a different tradition.

When Lewis finally caught a bullet after getting caught cheating at poker, Len took the opportunity to leave Central City. He spent the next twenty years building a name for himself all across the globe. Still, some things were habit, by then. Whenever he was in Central, he always made a trip to the brothel, where he was assured of an hour or two of pleasure with a willing body.

* * *

“Mr. Snart! It’s been a long time,” David Singh said, smiling widely as he waved Len inside.

Len gave him a nod before taking a quick look around the foyer. “I’ve been out of the country,” he said casually. “How’s business?”

David Singh might be a Procurer, but he was also a surprisingly honest man. His husband had inherited the business from his mother when she finally passed away from heart complications eight years ago. Since then, David and Rob had made the place even more cozy, as well as adding to the stable. Not long after that they began offering more than just two dozen or so pretty girls. They had branched out into more… exotic tastes.

“Business is booming,” David smirked. 

Len smirked back and handed David his credit card before walking toward the parlor. Inside there were several working girls lounging at random places. The biggest difference between his last visit and this one was, there were a few young men lounging around, as well. His eyes immediately latched onto a pretty brunette sitting by the fireplace, legs hanging over the arm of the love seat and his head cushioned on a pillow as he read a book. 

Len paused, surprised by his unexpected interest, before walking straight toward the guy. Once Len came to a stop right beside the guy’s shoulder, he looked away from his book and up at Len. A soft smile pulled the corners of his mouth up and he shifted to sit up fully, dropping his book onto the side table.

“Hi,” he said in a friendly manner.

Len smirked and took a seat on the love seat. “Good evening,” he drawled, letting his eyes trail over the guy. “I’m Sam.”

The guy giggled softly. “Barry,” he supplied. 

Len had no idea what made him approach Barry. The male form had always been attractive to him but he had always gone for more rugged men. Men who could take a bit of rough and tumble. Barry looked like a strong breeze would knock him over. He did have a very pretty mouth and eyes, though. 

Len leaned back against the love seat and spread an arm across the back so his fingers could rest on Barry’s neck. “So, Barry are you busy?”

Barry shifted so he was facing Len a bit more, his boxers pulling tight across his lap. “Well, I was reading, but then this really sexy guy interrupted me,” he grinned.

Len chuckled and stood up. “Shall we?”

Barry rose gracefully to his feet and led the way out of the parlor. Len’s gaze latched onto the rounded ass in front of him as he followed Barry up the stairs. Barry’s room was another surprise for Len. While there was a large bed in the center and a claw-footed tub in front of the fireplace like other rooms he had been in, this one had other, unexpected, points of interest. 

There was a long padded bench in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror. It had a set of leather cuffs at either end as well as a metal bar hanging from the ceiling above it. Against the opposite wall was a St. Andrews cross. In the far corner was a pile of pillows and fluffy blankets as well as an open wooden chest filled with toys. A fucking machine was beside it. The whole corner was surrounded by sheer curtains. There were two bars hanging over the bed, at either end. The closet door was open and displaying several whips, floggers and belts. 

Len’s mouth ran dry and his cock was practically choking in the tight confines of his jeans. He turned his eyes back to Barry who had made his way over to a bookshelf with a dozen of those folding fabric baskets. He was smirking wickedly, his hazel eyes tracing the outline of Len’s erection.

“You’re a big boy,” he purred, turning to the shelves and reaching into various baskets. He grabbed a box of extra large condoms, an unopened bottle of lube and a package of wipes, tossing them onto the bed. Turning back he sauntered back toward Len.

“So, _Sam_,” he teased, “anything catch your eye in particular?”

Len’s arousal faded slightly at the weird stressing of his fake name, but Barry’s expression was amused and aroused, not suspicious. “Besides you?” he countered.

Barry giggled and leaned in close to nibble Len’s ear lobe. “I’m very flexible,” he whispered. “I like being tied up. I like being manhandled. I especially like it when Daddy has to punish me.”

Len growled and grabbed Barry’s hips tightly, pulling him as close as possible as he captured Barry’s mouth in a rough kiss. Feeling the younger man practically melt against him was a heady feeling. Len reluctantly pulled back enough to look Barry in the eyes. “How far?” he demanded.

“If I say ‘bishop’ we stop,” Barry said breathlessly. “Otherwise, I like it rough. I like being used. I like bite marks and handprints.”

“Bench. We’ll start there,” Len growled. Barry grinned and started to move toward the bench, but Len gripped his arm tight and pulled him back in close. “Your entire night is mine, baby boy.”

Barry’s eyes dilated and he licked his lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Now, strip and kneel on the bench.”

* * *

Len tucked the blanket around Barry and quietly left the room. He made his way downstairs, tucking his shirt as he went. In the parlor he spotted a couple of girls and David’s husband sipping coffee while watching TV. The office door was open, so he knocked twice before stepping inside. David looked up from his ledgers and smiled cheekily. 

“You look like you went ten rounds with a hurricane.”

Len snorted and took back his credit card and signed the slip sitting on the desk. “I’ll be in town for a week. I’d like to reserve Barry’s nights for the entirety of my stay.”

David’s eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t remember Snart ever visiting more than once during a trip to Central. Then again, he couldn’t remember Snart ever spending the night, either. “Well, I have to check with Barry, first. It’s standard after a long session. If he says okay then I can book him for every night but Tuesday.”

Len’s expression got colder. “Cancel his client. I’ll pay double.”

“His Tuesdays is a regular, long-standing booking,” David explained. “You know my policy, Snart. Regulars get preferential treatment.”

Snart gritted his teeth but reined in his annoyance. Threats wouldn’t work and neither would bribes. All that would do was get him banned. “Book the rest.” 

“If he agrees, they’re all yours,” David agreed. Len nodded and headed toward the door.

* * *

Len was a liar, a thief, a con man. He was stubborn, controlling and cold. He kept people at arm’s length and never let emotions get the better of him. Emotions got in the way. They got you killed. Anger, pride, hate, even kindness could cause a person to lose focus and make mistakes. There were plenty of people who suspected he was a thief, but they never had any evidence to tie him to any crimes. He made sure of it. He worked alone and relied on no one. Controlling his emotions had kept him safe and his record clean.

Which was why he was shocked to find himself jealous over a whore. 

The four nights he had spent with Barry had been incredibly satisfying. The young man was a demon in bed. His stamina was unparalleled. There wasn’t a single piece of equipment they hadn’t used at least once. He followed orders perfectly. He did anything Len wanted, whether it was simply bending over for a spanking or spending an hour on the fucking machine while Len covered him in wax. They played around with every kink Len had and experimented with a couple he had never tried before.

Honestly, Len thought he would grow tired of the kid, or just exhaust his own urges. He had never bedded anyone who could hold his interest longer than three days. Len had a talent for figuring out people, often within minutes, and that familiarity had him feeling bored in very little time. So far that hadn’t happened with Barry. The young man was an enigma. Shy but bold. Smart but innocent. Sexy but sweet. Barry was a constant contradiction. He left Len wanting to know more. Which was why he was sitting in his barely used hotel room on Tuesday, growing more and more angry that his Barry was being fucked by someone else.

Len froze as he replayed that in his head. 

His Barry. 

How and when did he become _his_ Barry?

Len jumped up from his bed and grabbed his jacket. He needed a drink. A few drinks. Maybe pick up some random stranger. Whatever it took to end this unexpected possessiveness he was feeling over a fucking prostitute!

* * *

The bar wasn’t seedy, but it wasn’t upscale, either. Lots of dark wood and low lighting, with booths along the south wall, a handful of round tables in the middle and a couple of pool tables along the north side. The island bar was packed with two bartenders moving quickly between customers. Len found an empty table and waved over a waitress, ordering a whiskey sour. He got comfortable and began looking over the patrons, gauging each one carefully for threats or interest. There were a couple of possibilities, but he decided to wait a bit longer and enjoy his drink before approaching anyone. 

A burst of laughter drew his attention to a group of men at the furthest pool table. He glanced over them briefly, almost ready to go talk to a cute redhead who had been eyeing him for the past half hour, but a familiar head of hair caught his attention. Len’s heart thudded hard in his chest as he craned his neck for a better look.

Fuck! It was Barry! What the hell was he doing here? He’s supposed to have a client tonight! Len was trying to decide whether or not to just ignore Barry’s presence and leave when the younger man began walking toward the bar and spotted him.

Len watched with surprise as Barry smiled and gave him a nod. He didn’t approach or call out as he went to the bar. He got the bartender’s attention and placed an order before turning and heading back toward the group he was with. Without allowing himself to think too hard, Len stood and took a step forward, placing himself in Barry’s path. 

“Barry,” he greeted with a drawl.

Barry stopped right in front of him, a wide smile on his face. “Hey, Sam. I wasn’t sure if you would want me to say hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

Len shrugged one shoulder. “Neither was I. I thought you were booked.”

Barry ran a hand through his hair and chuckled lightly. “Kinda, I guess.” He tilted his chin toward the group he was with. “I spend Tuesdays with Mick. He owns this place. His sister was my foster mom so he’s kinda like my uncle.”

The tension in Len’s shoulders drained, leaving him feeling on edge, nervous. “Ah. Well, I’m certain you would rather not explain how we know one another to family, so...”

“Oh, no,” Barry giggled. “Mick knows what I do. He helped me find The Salty Seas, in fact.”

“He… helped you?” Len repeated, half surprised and half angry.

Barry nodded. “Well, yeah. It’s safe and clean and David is a cool boss.”

“Hey, Red, trouble?”

Len turned and glared at the large man who was walking toward them. Thickly muscled and sporting some impressive burn scars, the guy was huge. Barry shook his head and smiled, stepping a little closer to Len. 

“Mick, this is Sam. Sam, my uncle, Mick,” Barry introduced.

Mick eyed Len suspiciously. “Friend or _friend_?”

Len smirked and wrapped an arm around Barry’s waist. “_Friend_,” he purred.

Barry gave another giggle before drawing Len and Mick over to Len’s table. “I’ll get us some beers. Sam, what do you want?”

“Whiskey sour,” he answered. Barry walked off and the two men studied each other. “So, you’re Barry’s pimp?” Len asked a bit coldly.

Mick’s eyes narrowed. “His uncle,” he corrected.

“Who put him in a whore house,” Len pointed out.

“Would you rather he worked a street corner or trawled dive bars?” Mick asked. “Cause that’s what he was doing. Barry’s a satyromaniac. He has an excessive sexual drive. It’s like nymphomania in women. When he was seventeen he was hit by lightning. Screwed up something in his head. Ever since, he’s been overly sexual. It’s a compulsion. We tried therapists, drugs, whatever treatments we could find. None of that crap worked for him. So, I figure that if he was gonna be fucking, the least I could do was make sure he was as safe as possible.”

Barry reappeared with two beers and Len’s drink. He set them down and perched himself on Len’s left knee. Mick gave him a questioning look, so Len smirked and wrapped his arm around Barry again. 

Mick chuckled, picking up his drink. “I was explaining about how you got your job. You okay with that, Red?”

Barry shrugged one shoulder as he took a drink. “I’m not ashamed, Mick. You know that. I’ve got an addiction. Luckily, it’s one that pays well and feels good.”

“So, what is it you do, Sam?” Mick asked.

Len planned on giving his usual cover story, of being a professional photographer. It wasn’t even really a lie. He had a couple of art showings under his belt. His photos had been featured in several magazines. Somewhere between his brain and his mouth his story changed.

“I’m a thief, for the most part. High end art and jewels.”

Mick’s eyes widened with surprise but Barry just giggled and sipped his beer. “Told you,” the young man said teasingly.

“Told him what, exactly?” Len asked, confused.

“That you’re him,” Barry said, turning his head to look at Len mischievously. “The one the media calls Captain Cold. The thief so good the investigation is always a cold trail.”

Len tensed and had to force himself not to shove Barry away and draw his gun. “How did you know?” he hissed angrily.

Barry reached over and lifted Len’s right hand, tapping his finger against the pinkie ring Len wore. “I noticed it when you sat down beside me on the sofa Friday. It’s from the Concord Collection that was stolen from Opal City nine years ago. It’s the only piece that never resurfaced. It’s unique because there is amethyst dust embedded in the silver, giving it a soft violet color. There’s no evidence, but it’s one of the crimes the FBI is certain was committed by Captain Cold.”

“Barry loves criminology,” Mick smirked. “Coulda been one helluva CSI if he’d finished college. Studies unsolved crimes and weird mysteries like it’s a religion.”

Barry preened at the praise and shrugged before turning forward. “If I was going to turn you in, I’d have already done it,” he said calmly.

“Why haven’t you, if you’re so certain?” Len asked.

Barry looked back at him with a smile. “I like your crimes. They’re fascinating. If I turned you in, you wouldn’t be able to pull any more heists. Then I’d have nothing to read about. Besides, I don’t mind if you’re a thief. I’m a whore. Neither one of us is a law abiding citizen.”

Mick nodded. “I’ve met worse. Liars, killers, politicians. From what Red’s told me, you don’t kill and you only hit places that are insured. I’m more concerned with the bite marks you leave behind than the way you make a living.”

Barry snickered and leaned back against Len’s chest. “He only leaves them where I want them. You’ve only seen a few.”

“Too much info, kid,” Mick grumbled. 

Len’s head was spinning with the strangeness of the situation. Not only did two strangers know who he was, but they didn’t care. Hell, Barry actually seemed like he approved! A shrill beeping started coming from Barry’s pocket. He pulled out his phone and turned off the alarm before standing. 

“I gotta go or I’ll miss the bus,” he said regretfully. He moved around the table to hug Mick’s neck. “See you Friday.”

“Take care, Red,” Mick said fondly. “Call if you need anything. We’ll grab lunch before I see Zari.”

Barry nodded and turned back to Len. “Look, I’m sure you’re probably a bit freaked or angry, but you really don’t have anything to worry about. I don’t know your real name. I honestly have no intentions of going to the cops.” Barry paused and gave him a wink. “I’d rather fuck you than fuck you over.”

Mick groaned and shook his head. “Get outta here, Red. You’re giving me the creepies!”

Barry was laughing as he left the bar. Len slowly relaxed as he watched Mick. “What about you?” he asked.

Mick gave him a glare but there was no heat behind it. “I have absolutely no urge to fuck you.” 

Len couldn’t help but laugh. “Good. You’re not my type.” He paused and was compelled to be honest. “At least, not anymore,” he clarified, thinking of his nearly overwhelming attraction to Barry.

Mick stared at Len for a long moment. “Damn,” he said finally. “He got to you fast.”

Len tensed slightly. “What do you mean?”

Mick sighed and waved a hand to get the waitress over. He ordered another beer and looked at Len questioningly. Len shook his head, not wanting to get drunk, anymore. He suspected he needed a clear head for whatever the other man was going to say.

“Did you know Barry normally refuses all-nighters?” he asked. “That he discourages regulars, often refusing to see the same client more than twice a month?”

Len shook his head, surprised. “No. Have I overstepped? I was told he was okay with my booking him for the week.”

“He is,” Mick assured him. “When he told me about you, I was surprised and worried. See, the thing that makes Barry like he is, whatever the lightning did to make him hypersexual, also makes it hard for him to get attached to anyone. There’s a bunch of fancy words for it, but basically, he doesn’t love. He’s too driven by his body to have an interest in his heart. 

He used to get crushes as a kid. He’d fall hard and practically float on clouds with big ol’ heart eyes. Since the accident, he just can’t seem to do that. He doesn’t feel softer emotions anymore. Finds it uncomfortable having to deal with expectations beyond the physical.

Unfortunately, Barry’s also the sweetest, most lovable person I know. Nine times out of ten, when someone spends enough time with him, they get attached. They start to romanticize Barry. I’ve met too many who thought they could ‘fix’ or ‘rescue’ him. And he hates it. Hates having to hurt anyone, or break their heart. But he’s not capable of loving them back. 

He needs sex. Craves it. But he hates it when someone gets clingy. So, he discourages all-night clients and frequent visits. Until you. He said you’ve interested him from the moment you met. Not in the hearts and flowers kinda way, but intellectually. He ain’t gonna be happy if you fall for him, Sam. He’ll hate to lose you as a client, but he ain’t got it in him to be more than a fuck buddy.”

Len gave careful thought to everything Mick had said. Unsurprisingly to him, he felt a great deal of relief at this new knowledge. “It will probably make you feel better, then, to know I’m aromantic. I’m a possessive bastard with trust issues, but I don’t do love and flowers and romance. Do I like Barry? Yes. He’s fun and sexy and satisfying. Has this built up incredibly quickly? Yes. That doesn’t mean I’m going to fall in love. 

I’ll be honest. Barry ticks every interest on my check list. He’s young, unattached and keeps up with me. I’ve actually wondered if he would be interested in a more long-term arrangement, but I haven’t asked because I didn’t want him thinking this was some sort of ‘Pretty Woman’ bullshit. I’m not in love and I’m not looking to rescue anyone. I’m getting to the age where I want convenient and comfortable, but finding a bed partner who won’t get clingy or boring is… problematic.”

Mick studied Len carefully throughout his reply. When Len was done he leaned forward and braced his arms on the table. “Then it might interest you to know that even though sex is a compulsion for Barry, he would rather not have multiple partners. He doesn’t hate working at the Seas, but he would rather have one partner who is trustworthy and safe then a lot of partners he doesn’t trust. He does his best to stay safe, but like I said, sex is a compulsion. He had one girlfriend, for almost a year, after the accident. Was faithful, too. She eventually left because love wasn’t an option. She wanted marriage and kids while Barry just wanted orgasms. Barry likes you. Doesn’t give a damn about your career. If you offer him steady sex and no heart-to-heart talks, he’ll be your and yours alone.”

Len pulled his wallet out and placed a couple of twenties on the table. “One question before I go,” he said calmly. “Are you encouraging me to offer Barry an arrangement because you want him out of the business or because you want him safe?”

Mick stood and smiled slightly. “Because I want him happy,’ he corrected.

Len nodded and left. He walked back to his motel slowly, his mind working hard to look at all the angles and figure out a plan. He weighed the pros and cons carefully. By the time he had showered and dropped into the bed, he had a tentative plan in mind. Now he just needed to talk to Barry.

* * *

Len gently rubbed lotion into the tender skin of Barry’s wrists where the ropes had chaffed slightly. Barry was draped across the foot of the bed, a contented expression on his face. Once the lotion had soaked in Len stretched out beside him and picked up a sharpie. He doodled across Barry’s stomach and hip, the lines of ink slowly converging to reveal a diagram of the lock on an old Draycon S120 safe.

“Planning?” Barry asked, yawning but keeping as still as possible so as not to disturb Len’s work.

“First safe I ever cracked,” Len replied calmly. “I have fond memories of that heist. Seems appropriate.”

Barry snorted as he crossed his arms behind his head. “Think you’ve cracked me?” he asked.

“If I asked, would you leave with me?” Len asked instead of answering. “Would you let me set you up someplace so I could have you whenever I wanted?”

Barry tensed and his expression closed off. “Asking me to go steady?” he quipped.

Len rolled his eyes as he kept drawing. “No, I’m asking you to be my own personal whore. I can afford you. You wouldn’t have to take anyone’s dick but mine. I’m too old and too set in my ways to ever settle down but I’ve been looking for a companion for a while now; for someone who understands.”

“Understands what?” Barry asked cautiously.

“That I’m never going to love them. That I’m always going to be a thief. That I con and I honeypot and I don’t feel guilty about seducing someone out of a small fortune. That I will never give them my heart but I will give them my body, my time and my money.”

“Like a mistress,” Barry suggested.

“Yes.”

“Why me?”

“You’re young, cute, exciting and you don’t have the ability to love me,” Len answered. 

Barry pushed the marker away and sat up. “That’s not… entirely correct,” he said carefully.

Len sat up as well, trying to see past Barry’s expressionless mask. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Barry hesitated before dragging a hand through his hair. “I kind of do love you,” he admitted softly, his eyes softening and the mask falling away to reveal a look of adoration. “Not the way most people would or do, but you are… important, to me. I like being with you more than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. You’re smart and funny and sexy and there’s something so captivating about you.”

Len settled back, putting a bit of distance between them. “You love me,” he repeated coldly.

“Not in the hearts and flowers kind of way,” Barry clarified. “I’m not looking for romance or promises or some sort of happy-ever-after. I don’t want marriage or kids or even a dog. I don’t want breakfast in bed, unless it’s whipped cream on your cock. I’m not interested in anniversaries or gifts or planning a future and honestly, I have more money than I’ll ever need because I don’t really spend what I make here.”

Len stared at him intently for several seconds. “Then what are you looking for?”

Barry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The way I feel about you, it’s me enjoying the stories you tell and the way you fuck me so good and the way I feel safe with you. Even when you tie me up and flog me, I know you won’t go too far. I don’t have to hope you listen if I safeword out. I know you will. I love that you tell me about your heists because you know I won’t break your trust. I want to please you just as much as I want my own pleasure. I don’t care if you steal or lie or sleep with someone else, for whatever reason, because that’s just who you are and I like who you are.”

Len studied Barry as he thought over what the younger man had said. His previous experiences with love had never ended well. To him, love was jealousy and demands for attention and expensive gifts and more time than he had to invest. Nearly all of his former lovers had tried to change him, tried to reform him. A few had grown more and more demanding until the relationship crashed and burned and both of them were left breathing in ashes. 

“Either you’re insanely well-adjusted or just insane,” Len said.

Barry leaned in and bit Len’s bottom lip sharply, giving it a little tug before letting go. “I don’t need your money or your heart. I only want your body and your trust. I won’t interfere with your work, although I may ask for details because I’m just that curious. I won’t make demands. If you want me, exclusively, I’ll be yours but if you’re going to leave me for long periods I need to be able to take other lovers.”

Len stared up at the ceiling for a long, silent moment as he thought about that. “If I was going to be gone for long periods, maybe you could come back here. Work out an arrangement with David for you to be available on a temporary basis. See previous clients. Be near your uncle.”

Barry sat up and looked down at Len with an excited expression. “Really? You would let me do that?”

Len smirked and reached up to trace Barry’s bottom lip. “You would be safe here. You have family and friends here. I live in Gotham most of the time, but I do travel several times a year for business, both legal and not-so-legal. I’ll be honest, I don’t like the idea of you taking on lovers in Gotham. I don’t like people knowing where any of my safehouses are. I don’t like people so close to my business. I don’t like sharing but I also understand that you have needs. I won’t change you any more than you change me. This could work if you’re interested.”

Barry stared down at him for a couple of seconds before his excited expression morphed into one of determination. “I’m going to put on a cage and bend over in front of the fucking machine, then you are going to let it fuck me until I’m sobbing and begging you to let me cum, and all the while I’m going to be sucking your dick like it’s my last meal.”

Len’s spent cock twitched with interest, even though he had already had two orgasms. “I am?” he drawled, grinning.

Barry hopped off the bed and grabbed a new condom and the bottle of lube they had opened earlier. “You are,” he insisted heatedly.

Len slid from the bed and walked around it to watch as Barry began positioning cushions for them both. The eagerness in the younger man’s eyes was thrilling. Len had always thought he wasn’t wired for relationships. He had always believed his emotions were too stunted to have anything more meaningful than a temporary fuck-buddy or a target to honeypot. Now, though, he could see this arrangement working out. He could see him and Barry being together for a very long time. It wasn’t conventional. It wasn’t some fairy-tale ending. But it was real and it was satisfying and it was theirs. In the end, that was all that mattered.


End file.
